It's No Joke
by undertheaegisof
Summary: It was just supposed to be a one night stand. A simple one and done...but then it got complicated. All the Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins. Also Two Night Stand is the basis for this story. A very funny movie!
1. Chapter 1

"Seriously Katniss. Are you fucking kidding me?" Johanna shouts as she barges into our shared apartment. "Have you even moved since this morning? I swear you are planted exactly in the same spot." She slams the door and kicks off her shoes.

"I have moved." I grumble.

"Going to take a piss doesn't count brainless." I try to throw a pillow at her but she dodges out of the way.

"Don't waste another minute on that asshole. He's not fucking worth it." She lectures.

"You're very foul mouthed today."

"I blame you. You have made the whole apartment a very moody place. He's not even worth it."

"I know." I groan into the couch cushions. "I just can't believe he's marrying her already. Hell, this time last year he had only just broken our engagement. Then not even a week after he left me he was dating her. And now they are already getting married! I waited three years for him to marry me and he just kept delaying it until he finally decided it wasn't worth it. I wasn't worth it."

Johanna slams down on the couch beside me. "Fuck him. Fuck Gale, he was a stupid asshole. And fuck Madge too."

I let out a choked laugh. "If only she wasn't so damn wonderful. It would be easier to hate her if she was a bitch and if they weren't so damn perfect for each other."

"I'll drink to that!" Johanna races to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of wine. With glasses in hand she returns and pours two very full glasses of wine.

"Bottoms up." She hands me a glass and we both take very large gulps.

"You know what you need..." She trails off for a moment and I'm afraid to ask. "A good old fashioned one night stand. Just a great night of meaningless sex with a hot guy you'll never have to see again.

You need to get Gale out of your system. And you haven't had sex in over a year!"

"That is a terrible idea Jo!"

"If you say so. Now I am going out tonight. I think I'll take my own advice and find a nice piece of ass to bring home tonight! You wanna come out?" She makes her way into her room, no doubt to change into something skimpy and club appropriate.

"No I think I'll stay home and spend some quality time with Netflix."

"Suit yourself." She emerges in a very small black cutout dress.

Long after Jo leaves and over half the bottle of wine is gone I'm sitting in front of the computer chastising myself for even entertaining Jo's idea. I'm setting up a profile on an online dating website with a specific interest in one night stands. And all the while I'm reminding myself how stupid this is...but I'm not stopping either. I'm a true idiot.

When the profile is made I have a small heap of possible matches. I quickly close my computer and chastise myself yet again. I turn my attention back to Netflix and my bottle of wine.

A full glass later and I tentatively open my computer again.

What harm could this really do anyways? After all I'm single and horny as hell. It would be good to let off some steam. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss sex a lot.

I drum my fingers rapidly against my chin and worry my bottom lip between my teeth. This is a bad idea, seriously what am I thinki...

Ping!

My heart thunders in my chest as I stare down at the new message alert on my screen.

"Hey sexy. DTF?"

Seriously? That's the big opener...

"My name is Cato. 8.5 inches in case you're wondering."

Ick. Definitely not him.

"Not wondering. Goodbye."

Blocked.

Well damn. Off to a great start. I toss my computer to the side in frustration.

Twenty minutes later and I hear another ping. I ignore it for a while but the pings become incessant. I reluctantly give in and pull my laptop back into my lap.

"Hey there gorgeous."

"Hard to get huh? Don't you know guys love that."

"Your profile pic is amazing."

"You should know I love a tease. ;)"

"I'm not giving up beautiful lady. You may as well talk to me."

"One word. Persistence."

He keeps going. He really is persistent. I'll give him that.

"You really don't give up easy." I tap out.

"Video chat? I'd love to hear if your voice is as beautiful as your face."

Suddenly a call comes in and hesitantly I accept.

"Hey there good looking." I instantly freeze and my blood begins to boil.

"Finnick! What the hell!" My friends cackling face appears on the screen.

"Finnick what the hell are you doing on a dating website?"

"Jo told Annie about this ridiculous scheme. Annie texted me...and I jumped at the opportunity to see the live show." He laughs.

"Fuck you. Fuck Johanna! And we might as well throw Annie in there too! Is my love life just a joke for everyone to enjoy?"

"No. Just me. Jo and Annie both think that online dating is a great idea for you. They're hopeful and they really think this could help you get out of your funk. Me... well I wasn't invited to girls night so I'm bored and wanted a laugh."

"You are a giant asshole Finnick."

"I think it'll be good for you too kitty. You need to get Gale out of your system or you'll never move one."

"Goodbye Finnick." I growl before aggressively ending the call.

Netflix and wine calls to me again and I take a large gulp trying to calm the anger raging inside me.

When the next ping goes off I really just want to ignore it. It's probably Finnick again.

I chance a cursory glance at my computer screen to see what smart ass thing Finnick has to say. To my surprise it's not the same web handle Finnick was using.

A simple message awaits. "Hey."

"Hey." Fingers crossed that he's not another dick.

"How are you?"

How am I? That right there is a loaded question with a myriad of answers.

"Well I am home alone on a Friday night with only my Netflix, a bottle of wine, and a dating website to keep me company. How about you?"

"Same. Except substitute the wine for baked goods. I'm eating my single sorrows away."

"Jealous. I could really go for a delicious pastry. I had pizza pops for dinner."

"Ugh...I feel bad that you had to eat that garbage."

"Pizza pops aren't garbage! They are a delicacy."

"Oh please. The thought makes me cringe. You've obviously never tasted a good pastry. I promise you that a good homemade dough is a thousand times better than your 'pizza pop' crap."

"Well I'm a shit baker and cook so my pizza pop crap is all I have."

I don't know why but normally I would be peaked that he keeps criticizing me food choices but I find myself really enjoying this conversation. I wonder if that is just a sign of how unsocialized I have become. I guess I must really need some new people in my life if a simple conversation about pizza pops is the most thrilling thing I've had lately. Goodness... I need to get laid.

"Well to bad for you cause I am great at both."

Suddenly an image pops up and my mouth starts to water. A fluffy golden bun covered in savoury melted cheese.

"That's just unfair." I type back trying to stop my mouth from watering.

"See. Even the image of my cheese bun is better than your pizza pop." I can practically feel the smugness radiating through the screen and he deserves it because he's right. That does look a thousand times better than my measly pizza pop.

"I can't even lie that does look better than my pizza pop tastes."

"I knew it :). So what brings you to this website all alone on a Friday night?"

I sigh. I'm really not to keen on telling him all about my pathetic life.

"My roommate planted the idea in my mind. Apparently I need to get out more or in my roommate's words...get laid. And I've had just enough wine to make it seem like a good idea."

"I feel as if I heard a similar speech from my brother."

"Two peas in a pod :)" It's strange, I feel such a connection with him already after just a few minutes chatting. It's nice.

"Would you like to video chat?" He asks after a few moments of silence.

"Sure."

I've barely hit send when my computer is chiming with a call.

I hesitate for a moment before accepting.

The video connects and before I can stop myself a breathy "wow" escapes my lips.

"Sorry?" His face screws up in confusion. Shit his face is gorgeous.

"I didn't say anything." I blow it off, hopefully inconspicuously.

"Your apartment is nice."

"I wish but it's not my apartment. It's my roommate's. I'm practically a squatter." I chuckle awkwardly and look around. Jo's apartment is really nice, definitely not something I could afford on my measly income. "Your place seems pretty nice as well."

He looks behind him at the brick wall. I wonder if it is real brick or it's one of those fake stone facades?

"Thanks." He's gorgeous. He seems nice. The wine has given me courage. Fuck it. Let's go for it. I'm tired of skirting around the reason we're both on here.

"Listen Peeta. Let's quit beating around the bush. We both know why we're on here. You seem like a very nice guy, definitely not a serial killer or anything, and I promise I'm not just some wine drunk white chick. Something in our lives pushed on onto this site so let's just be honest. I'm looking for a one night of meaningless sex. Are you in?"

He looks temporarily dumbstruck. His mouth agape and his eyes wide for a long moment before regaining his composure.

"35 Venice Boulevard. See you soon?" He smiles and the video goes black.

I take one last big gulp of wine before pulling on my boots and winter coat. With the apartment locked I set off towards my old rust bucket of a car. I brush off the light dusting of snow and get in. When the engine groans to life the heat sputters around me. I take one deep reassuring breath.

Here goes nothing.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for such a long absence. I broke my computer, literally smashed the screen to hell. But I finally got a new one and I'm back with new stories! I hope you all enjoy.**


	2. Chapter 2

The drive is about forty five minutes across town. I almost turn around forty five times. But something keeps me going.

I pull onto the street in a quaint suburban neighbourhood. I keep expecting to find some small apartment building but as the numbers dwindle all I find are rows of lovely little homes. I feel more than a little insecure the closer I get. I mean I am basically a squatter but Peeta lives in a house. He may even own it and that is more than enough to make me feel just a little bit worse about my increasingly pathetic life.

Part of me is screaming to just turn around and go back home. Delete my stupid profile and forget this ever happened.

But a bigger part of me just wants one great night. One night that will help me to move on from my asshole ex. One night of fun with nothing attached. One night to not be me. That part is the me that opens the car door and marches with determination to number 35. I take a second to straighten my coat and take a deep breath before knocking on the door.

My heart beats rapidly, it almost feels like it's beating in my throat instead of my chest, as I hear heavy footsteps approaching from the other side of the door.

The door swings open and I am amazed. He's even more unbelievably attractive than I thought. Damn. His ashy blonde hair is the perfect mess of waves and it falls just right without tangling in his gloriously long eyelashes. So many girls would kill for those lashes however it's his eyes that are truly remarkable. A deep blue with hints of green around the pupil. His skin is so clear, like he's never had a zit before in his life the luck bastard. The blonde stubble gives his face a touch of masculinity. He's not overly tall, but taller than me and I like that. He's stocky and his t-shirt stretches nicely over his chest. The dark wash jeans slung low on his hips are more than appealing. He is ridiculously handsome.

Ridiculously attractive and living in a nice home in a nice neighbourhood. How on earth is this guy having lady troubles enough to drive him to internet hook ups.

"Katniss. Come on in." And a voice like melted honey. Shit it sounds even better in person.

 _The Next Morning_

An obnoxious alarm wakes me from what was a surprisingly peaceful slumber. And with that alarm comes the harsh reality that I am not in my bed.

A deep groan comes from beside me and the bed shifts as Peeta's body moves so he can slam the snooze button.

I lay still, completely frozen, until I hear him starting to snore again. Then carefully I pull off the covers and inch my way off the bed. I slowly follow the trail of clothing, gathering what's mine as I go. Last night got heated extremely quickly. He invited me in and offered me tea. I'm pretty sure I threw myself at him right there and then but I'm also pretty sure that he moved into me just as quickly.

With all my clothes in hand I move silently to the bathroom and get dressed. I grab my coat from where I draped it over the back of the sofa. As I slipped it on I notice a security system out of the corner of my eye. Shit. Armed.

I hear the alarm blaring again from the bedroom down the hall. I quickly shed my jacket and race quietly down the hall. Peeta has rolled over and hit the snooze once again and is still asleep. I pull off my jeans and sneak back under the covers. Fuck this is going to be awkward when he wakes up.

Ok. I can't leave the house without setting off the alarm and that would be a really horrible way to leave. Not that just leaving isn't horrible but at least it's a hell of a lot less awkward than setting off his alarm so he can wake up to me leaving. Maybe even chase me down. Shit. How am I going to get out of here?

With a deep groan and a sigh Peeta rolls over again and scrubs his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"Good morning." He grumbles. His voice is deep and raspy with sleep and so damn sexy. His eyes bleary and scarcely open. He's barely awake.

"Morning." I lay there awkwardly, staring at the ceiling and resisting the urge to twiddle my thumbs.

He drifts in and out of wakefulness beside me for the better part of the next half hour. I lay there thinking and unsuccessfully coming up with any ideas on how to leave.

"Did you get dressed?" I startle and look over into Peeta's deep blues.

"Uh...I...yea...I got cold!" I stutter out, probably louder than normal conversation should be. Damn why the hell am I so awkward. "I uh, yea I couldn't find any extra blankets so I got dressed a bit."

"Oh. Sorry. I sleep with the window open and I forget that not everyone is as crazy about the cold as I am." He chuckles, a deep and raspy noise that is unreasonably sexy.

"Yea, a little weird. Well I really should get going. I, uh, have errands to run." Worst excuse ever. "Well, um, Peter thanks for the great night. Really, I had a blast." Way to really be a dumbass Katniss...you know his name isn't Peter. He knows you know it's not Peter, after all you screamed the right name last night. Now you're an asshole.

His tight lipped smile shows me he knows I'm an asshole too.

"It's Peeta actually. Not Peter." I can hear that little bit of anger laced into his polite correction. "So do you want to stick around for breakfast? Or do you just normally take off after these kinds of things?"

Normally? Fuck him.

"Normally? Did you actually just say normally?"

"I didn't mean it like that." He throws out defensively as he jumps off the bed and begins to dress himself.

"Oh yea I'm sure you didn't. I know that my profile says that I'd never done this before. It's like the first thing I said about myself so how dare you just assume I have a 'normal' in this situation. Do you think so little of me to assume I have a normal, as if I do this all the time?" My voice is filled with bitterness and rage. I harshly pull my jeans back on. I really regret taking them off in the first place. Now I have to keep talking to this jerk.

"It wouldn't matter to me how often you've done this! I mean, honestly, I'm not judging you. I admire you actually. It was refreshing how forward you were last night..."

"Forward! That's just the polite way of saying desperate and slutty! How dare you!" I am so angry that all rational thought is long gone. I storm out of his bedroom and towards the front of the house.

"Well I mean call it what you will." He taunts under his breath.

"Screw you!" I pull on my coat and shoes.

"Don't get your panties in a twist I was only joking." He pulls angrily on his curls.

"Well then you have a shitty sense of humor. Have a nice life asshole. It was really great having sex with you." I draw out the last part with heavy sarcasm.

"It sounded like you had a pretty damn good time last night." He smirks and goads me.

"Don't believe everything you hear." I snarl and move towards the door.

I unlock the door and throw it open. The alarm system begins to beep loudly and I am met by a biting cold blast of wind and whirling gusts of snow. Instinctively I force the door shut again. A small heap of snow has formed in his door way around my feet.

My forehead thumps against the door, "You've got to be fucking joking."

Peeta rushes to the window and throws open the curtains. Outside is nothing but blinding white. He moves the the tv and the newscaster's voice fill the quiet room.

The newscaster informs the masses that the entire city is engulfed in a blizzard and that many will find their homes snowed in for the time being. He advises that everyone stay safe in their homes. To venture outside now would be dangerous indeed.

"Shit." Peeta mumbles, echoing the sentiments in my own head.

"Well." Peeta turns the tv off and turns to me, "I guess you'll be staying for breakfast after all. Make yourself at home."

He turns away into the kitchen and shortly follows the clatter of pots and pans.

I remove my shoes and jacket before settling on the couch. I pull out my phone and shoot a quick text to Johanna letting her know I'm alive and stuck in hell.

We eat breakfast in silence. Horrifically uncomfortable silence.

Desperate glances out the windows reveal that the weather has not improved only worsened. Dread settles deep within my core as the hours pass.

"Fuck this is awkward." Peeta breathes the first words spoken in hours.

I simply grimace and raise my eyebrows in a 'no fucking kidding' gesture.

"Can we just pretend this never happened?"

* * *

 **A/N: Please read and review! Tell me what you think! You're comments make my day :)**


	3. Chapter 3

"Can we just pretend this never happened? That last night never happened?" Peeta pleads, surely as exhausted by the situation as I am.

"I would love more than anything for last night not to have happened." I groan. "It wasn't that good anyways." I mumble on my breath.

If Peeta hears my muttered confession he shows no sign of it. Instead he moves into the living room and turns on the TV. Mindlessly, it seems, he flips through channels.

I move further into the house, away from where Peeta lounges on the sofa, and pull out my phone. I scroll until I find Johanna's contact and press call.

"Katniss?" Johanna's voice is anything but worried. Which it should be based on the fact that I am not home and haven't been all night. "So you took my advice."

"How'd you know? And were you even worried about me at all? What if I'd been killed or kidnapped?" I hiss into the speaker.

She laughs derisively. "Katniss stop being so mellow dramatic. You had a one night stand with a nice guy on the internet. Don't think I didn't stalk his profile. He's not a killer or kidnapper. Just extremely hot and hopefully a good fuck."

"Don't be so crass Jo." I cringe, knowing she'll only get worse if I don't move this conversation elsewhere.

"So are you on your way home?"

"Have you looked outside yet?" I hear the rustle of her duvet and the sound of metal rings sliding as she pulls back the curtains.

"Shit." A short pause before she comes back with concern in her voice. She may act all tough as nails, couldn't care at all, badass bitch but she cares fiercely for a select few. "Kat are you alright? Please tell me you're not trapped in that ol' beater of yours?"

"Worse." I groan. "I'm still at his house."

She breaks out into a fit of uproarious laughter.

"Johanna!" I hiss. "This isn't funny. I'm stuck here and we can barely stand each other. I'm living in hell right now all because you got the ridiculous idea into my head that I needed to get laid! You have to get me out of here!"

It takes a few minutes for her to contain her laughter. "Katniss. We both know there is no possible way that I can rescue you. I've checked the news, the city is nearly shut down. The roads are covered. I can't help you. So until the weather turns around you are stuck there. You may as well make the best of it."

Her voice turns and I can practically hear the smirk on her lips, "You've got a hot man trapped with you to do with as you will. Katniss this is practically a dream. A legitimate excuse to have a mindless and steamy day of endless fuc..."

I end the call. Her advice is completely useless to me and I don't feel like listening to the teasing.

I join Peeta in the living room. Seating myself awkwardly and as far away from him as possible. Not even the meaningless entertainment can distract my mind.

"Lunch?" Peeta speaks up after a morning of uncomfortable silence and endless television.

He disappears into the kitchen for nearly an hour. I spend the time alternating between watching whatever garbage reality tv show is currently playing and staring mindlessly at the endless white outside. Foolishly I'm hoping that maybe if I stare hard enough I can get the snow to stop and this hell can end.

If I knew that the one time I tried a one night stand that everything would go terribly wrong... I think I'd rather have gone without sex for another year.

I hear Peeta call out that food is ready and I make my way into the kitchen, starving and stomach rumbling.

The table is set and two plates filled with delicious potatoes and brussels sprouts that have been roasted with bacon and a juicy, perfectly seasoned pork chop. My mouth is already watering. I can't remember the last time I've eaten such a remarkable home cooked meal. No way Jo or I could cook anything half as incredible as this.

I take my seat and take the first bite. The potatoes are cooked to perfection and the subtle flavors of bacon. I have to repress a moan from just how amazing this food tastes. I've never really understood the word foodgasm till now. Shit, this food is so good and simply eating it brings me pleasure. Now I understand all those who claim to be foodies. I never knew eating could be so good.

"Well at least I can cook." Peeta jokes, clearly it's self-deprecating even though I can tell he's trying hard to hide just how much.

"At least you have that going for you." I murmur.

"I saw you take that first bite." He jabs, "I know you're impressed."

"Don't let it get to your head?" I grumble and continue eating. I try desperately not to convey the deep satisfaction and delight of this delicious meal.

After lunch is cleaned up and we are back to awkwardly sitting around watching tv Peeta pipes up with a suggestion.

"How about a drinking game?" He looks over at me from his spot on the sofa with eyebrows raised.

"A drinking game?" I scoff. "It's just barely past noon." I state pointing at the clock on the wall that reads 12:25.

"Cause we have so many other things to do." He gestures around the room and to the snow covered window.

He gets up off the couch before I can answer and trots down the hallway. I hear him open a closet door and rummage around for a while before retreating back to the living room. "So our choices are Monopoly or Operation?"

The look on my face must reflect how delusional I think he is because he quickly continues.

"I'm apparently not much of a gamer. So it's one of these two or more long hours of painfully awkward silence. Alcohol is really the only saving grace we have right now. So why the hell not?"

A lot of shots later and Operation: The Drinking Game is a lot more fun than I'd anticipated and in a better state of mind I'd realize that it's probably just the alcohol. But being pretty tipsy, probably tottering on the edge of drunk, I am actually having a lot of fun.

The buzzer sounds pulling me back to the game and Peeta groans before taking another shot.

He looks at me critically with those blue eyes slightly clouded by alcohol almost as if trying desperately to figure me out.

"What?" I finally slur after a few awkward moments.

"What did you mean by it wasn't that great?" He tilts his head and damn if it isn't adorable.

Suddenly the words register and his adorable head tilt isn't distracting me anymore. Shit.

"You heard?" I cringe and roll to my back on the cool hardwood of his living room floor.

"Yea I heard. And it's been driving me crazy. From what I heard you were having a great time and I thought it wasn't the worst." He stumbles over his words

"Wasn't the worst. Wow." I sarcastically draw out. "Do you give high praise like that to everyone?"

"Well obviously you weren't exactly honest with me either. Don't act like you're so wounded." He snaps with a pointed stare.

"Well what can I say I've had to become pretty good at faking it or else I'd hurt your sensitive male ego."

"Hurt my ego?" He scoffs. "My ego is just fine thank you. I don't need you to pad it thank you very much. I've had more than enough satisfied women in my bed to make up for your lousy experience sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart." I growl. "And are you sure they were satisfied? I'm not exactly a great actor and I convinced you didn't I?"

He looks a little stunned maybe a little hurt. His eyes slowly drift away, deep in thought.

"Why the hell do you girls do that?" He half shouts into the quiet house, startling me.

"Fake it?" I roll my eyes over to him, he looks pissed as he nods.

"Yea that. Why the hell do you all do that? Why not just be honest? Why is no one honest anymore?"

"Because nothing but pouting comes from it. If we're honest you all just get wounded because you're not some wonder sex god. It's like you put everything on your ability to perform and the minute you're not the 'best we've ever had' you all just shut down."

He's quiet for a while before turning back to me with a smirk, "I have an idea. Let's compare notes."

I start to interrupt but he hushes me.

"No seriously. Apparently we both need a little help in this department so why not help each other out? I mean it's not like we have a lot of other stuff to do."

I blame the alcohol entirely for thinking that this might not be a terrible idea.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys. Sorry for the short chapter. Just didn't want to keep you all waiting for to much longer. I'll post a longer one soon hopefully! Read and review please, I love to hear from you!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Okay. My idea so you go first." He declares proudly and drunkenly shoots off a few finger guns. I can see that he immediately regrets the drunken and juvenile act.

If it wasn't for the alcohol I know my tongue would not be this loose and I sure as hell would not be having this discussion.

"Fine." I roll over and make sure to stare him down. Part of me wants to crumble his cocky facade. "You were to eager to get to the main...event...if you will... that you completely forgot to check to see if I was where you were. Two short seconds to make sure that I was ready and it wouldn't have pinched so much as you entered. Two fingers...just slip them on inside and make sure that I'm all lubed up and ready to go. Really not that hard but you just skip right over it and I suffer for it."

"Alright. Noted." He nods a few times with a contemplative look on his face.

"You're turn. Tell me what I've supposedly done wrong." I narrow my eyes challenging him. Truth be told I'm nervous about what he has to say. When it comes to sex I've always felt a little...

"Insecure." He finishes my thought and I'm startled. "You're insecure. You need to have more confidence. You're beautiful and sexy but the minute your clothes come off you shrivel up with insecurity. Confidence is sexy. Insecurity is not."

I'm angry. Fuming actually. How dare he. How dare he...see right through me. That bastard. How dare he be right. I hate that he knows.

"We'll you are really lacking in your foreplay. You really don't know how to touch a woman properly do you?" I know it's callous and catty to respond with anger when he was only calling me out on the truth. He looks a little offended so I continue. "Do you think we like it when you put your fingers down there and just move them around? That's not how it works. You're moving your fingers to fast and not in a pleasant rhythm. And would it kill you to dip down for some lubrication! Certain kinds of friction are good...the dry rub you're giving is meant for a slab of meat not a woman."

"Well here's something crazy...why not just tell me that instead of suffering in silence. You expect me to read your mind and that is simply ridiculous! You seriously need to learn to communicate what you want or you'll never have great sex. You can't just expect every guy you are with to know what you want!"

"Well the least you should know, without me having to ask, is that I want to finish too. Instead of just rolling away when you're finished check to make sure your partner has. You have fingers...use them! I shouldn't have to finish myself after you've fallen asleep."

"Then don't fake it! Didn't we just talk about communication? If you weren't constantly trying to control all of the power then maybe you'd have a better time. Everything I tried to do you pulled away. Let me have some of the power for one second and maybe you wouldn't have to finish yourself. I was doing just fine eating you out and you seemed to really enjoy it then you took back the power, shoved me away...if you would have let me continue I could have actually..."

"Oh please! You're oral skills are rudimentary at best. You don't know how to read women at all. Every time I was getting close you'd read the signs all wrong and stop or change the rhythm. Every time!"

"We'll you are hard, closed off and cold! No guy likes to see the woman they are with drifting off and not being present. Thinking about someone else were you? An ex-boyfriend maybe? I can't say I blame him...I'd dump you too!"

His words are like a white hot iron burning right into me, instantly sobering me up. Without thinking I draw back my hand quickly before letting my hand fly with a sharp slap across his face.

I spin on my heel and close myself off in the bathroom. I desperately want to scream, to throw punches, to let out my anger in some way. Instead I sit down on the toilet and cry. Sobs wrack my body and even though I try to keep silent, small gasps and sniffles slip into the quiet room.

I hate him. I hate that he is right about me. That he seems to know so much about me, like he can somehow see into my soul. And I hate how he leaves me exposed with just a few words. How he exposes my own thoughts and worries. Are these the same reasons why I've never had a successful relationship? If I wasn't so cold and controlling would I have been able to keep a relationship longer than a few months. If I was able to communicate would they still have left? If I'd have known these things, had been more confident, asked for what I wanted instead of expecting him to know what I want, and all the other things Peeta had pointed out...if I'd know this would Gale still have cheated on me?

Time slips away as I sit in the bathroom and wallow. A few times I hear Peeta's heavy footsteps pace up and down the hallway, often stopping by the bathroom door for a couple moments before wandering away. It's only a few hours later when I hear him coming again and stopping by the door.

He stands quiet outside the door for a while before letting out a huge sigh. "Katniss. Dinner is ready."

"Fuck off Peeta," I growl through the closed door.

He sighs again and I hear a soft thud, which I assume is his head on the door. "I'm sorry Katniss. I shouldn't have said what I said. I was an asshole and I am really sorry. Please come out and eat."

The smell of dinner starts wafting through the closed door and my stomach growls and turns at the mouth watering scent.

Begrudgingly I pull the door open and storm past Peeta towards the kitchen.

His heavy tread follows behind me. I sit down at his kitchen table and focus only on my food. Even when Peeta sits across from me I refuse to look up.

"Katniss?" His voice is pleading as he sets down his fork with a clatter. "Can you please just look up? This is getting more than a little childish."

I lift my eyes quickly, levelling him with a glare I've reserved only for special occasions and a special type of asshole. Today Peeta meets both requirements.

"Listen I know I screwed up. I shouldn't have said what I said. I had no right to judge you like that. I am sorry. Please forgive me."

We continue the meal in relative silence and when he moves to clear the table I insist on doing the dishes. He refuses me at first but I am stubborn and unyielding. He has made me multiple meals and the least I can do is help clean up.

I take over washing the dishes so that Peeta can dry and put away since he knows where his things belong.

"I have an idea." Peeta sets down his dish towel with purpose and when I look over I see in his eyes that he is seriously considering his next words, as if he is making sure to choose each one extremely carefully. "I know we don't seem to like each other much."

I scoff.

I start to protest but he quickly covers my mouth with his hand and I resist the childish urge to lick his palm like every younger sibling has ever done.

"Ok now just listen for a moment. After this snow storm is over we won't have any reason to see each other again. And we still have lots of time to waste so why don't we test out these criticisms and be completely honest with each other because in a few days we won't matter to each other anymore. Consider it practice so that the next time either of us finds ourself with a partner it'll be a better experience. Like I said, we'll never have to see each other again so why the hell not?"

Why the hell not indeed. Part of me is repulsed but another is equally intrigued. I may not be very fond of Peeta but I can't deny that the thought of practice in this area, especially if there is unbridled honesty, is very appealing to me. Peeta has shown that he can be blunt and honest with me and I feel like I can have that freedom with him too. Especially because there is freedom in knowing that after this is over we'll never see each other again. I won't have to worry how it goes. It'll just be a learning experience. No repercussions just experience and knowledge. And that appeals to me greatly.

I worry my bottom lip between my teeth as I think over and contemplate the offer he has placed before me.

"Okay." I answer but quickly insert, "As long as we both promise to be very honest. Brutally so if need be. And we can't take it personally. This is purely in an academic sense."

"Deal." He holds out his hand for a handshake as if to seal the deal. I simply roll my eyes and continue with the last remaining dishes before me.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello my wonderful readers. Sorry for such a long delay. Work has been crazy...but that's just seems to be adult life for you. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter even if it is a little short. Please review! I really appreciate the comments and feedback.**


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